That's What You Think
by killerxcatch
Summary: A series of small drabbles, displaying miniscule Jazz and Prowl moments. TFA // Slash // 1st Fan Fiction
1. That's What You Think

**Good evening, reader. I welcome you to the joys of my lunchtime adventures. Please refrain from venturing away from our guided tour as Unicron might just be waiting to eat you. This is my first fan fiction for Transformers and hell, it has been a while since I have written anything else; so I may be a bit rusty. This is meant to be comical, so enjoy a chuckle ... if you can! *insert evil laugh* ... Enjoy.**

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It really was no surprise that he should be considered the best in the business. Prowl was dressed in a tight-fitting black corset, which was interwoven with yellow lace; a ruffled matching mini skirt, which hung precariously from his hips; and black stockings hidden partially by yellow stilettos. As he swaggered around the dark alleys of Cybertron's capital city, Iacon, legions of lust-darkened optics followed his every move; all wanting the same thing, a piece of that aft.

The night was registering to be a warm one yet he paid it no deed, continuing on his way around the path which he had so long ago learnt to walk. He could sense that he was being watched but it never occurred to him that it could be by someone other than his usual clients. He detected the sound of scuffling from behind him, which he responded to only by shaking his hips with more mirth. What could he say; he was an avaricious little prostitute, as his clients never failed to inform him of. A moment of silence went by as Prowl continued strutting confidently before he was pushed unexpectedly by an imposing figure from the side, right up against the concrete wall. His ninja talents not lost on him, Prowl managed to maneuver out of the others grasp; but for only so long, soon he was once again pushed up against the wall. Despite it's already being a dark night, his captor successfully managed to exude an air of darkness, an air of evil. His arms were held easily above his head, merely by the other's one hand; if Prowl had never felt weak before, he certainly felt so now. There was only one bot that this could be.

"Jazz, do you mind not ravishing me until _after_ my shift?" Prowl questioned with an air of indifference, despite his leaning closer to said bot; he really couldn't help himself where Jazz was concerned.

Prowl figured that he had imagined it, as the darkness concealed the other's features, but he almost felt certain that Jazz had smirked at his comment; he had obviously felt the flicker of uncertainty at the beginning of the utterance. As the grip loosened, Prowl remained where he was, raising an optic ridge at the Autobot gazing at him.

"I have to get you out of here," Jazz murmured as he leaned in to gently take Prowl's lip components within his. The passion sparked a reaction within both of them; most notably within Prowl, who moaned softly as the other slid his hand further down his sides. Prowl pulled back slowly, trying to get in a word, but Jazz would have none of it; merely deepening their kiss and amplifying their passion.

Time went by with agonizing speed as it was soon time for both to depart; but not before a few more hurried kisses. They could always continue this later. As Jazz moved away, Prowl watched after him with his head cocked to the side; he could never truly understand.

Arms encircled his waist, a head rested on his shoulder and lip components dragged along his neck juncture. Jazz always seemed to love these moments after their role-playing games. Prowl now just looked uncomfortable as his clothing situation took to the forefront of his awareness.

"Why is this always your choice for our fun?" Prowl growled softly as Jazz continued his apologetic ministrations.

"You know you love it, I know I do," Jazz laughed quietly, while still petting Prowl; it would not do to see him unhappy.

"Stop hinting that I would look good as a prostitute, you know no one else is having any of this," Prowl chided teasingly while pushing back against the more domineering bot.

"That's what _you_ think."

**TBC**

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**I hope you enjoyed this short little extract, showing the joys of role-playing. *insert whip-cracking noise*!**

**Let me know if you feel the urge to hear more (;**


	2. He'll find you

**Why hello there! Welcome to the second installment of my lunchtime writing adventures. I hope you find this to be just as amusing as my maties seem to. The lovely pairing of Prowl and Jazz is back with a vengeance ... or is it? Yes, so I'll be going now. Enjoy ... if you can!**

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How exactly Prowl had ended up up-side down, while wearing a purple cowboy hat, hanging only by an awfully weak-looking chain was anyone's guess. He certainly did not look too happy about it. In fact, from the terrible glare that was evident on his face and the stiff posture that was all too obvious to see, he was darn right mad about it; or maybe, he was just annoyed at the Elite Guard, who stood shaking in front of him - laughing his head off - while he had to remain in such an awkward position.

"Why do I let you do these things?"

Prowl interrogated in a flat monotone while staring at Jazz fiercely. The look did not hold quite the appeal which it was looking for, what with Prowl's being suspended in mid-air in a hilarious head dress, merely making the Autobot in front of him fall to the ground in hysterics.

"How could this possibly be a ... 'turn on', as Sari put it?"

At this point, Jazz was too far gone to reply. It was almost as though his circuits had overloaded, though not quite in the manner he had been hoping for. As the laughter continued on, Prowl was beginning to look anguished, lip components pouting as he was ignored. Finally, after many minutes of Prowl's pouting, Jazz calmed down enough to stand up.

"Oh, Prowler, you are so gullible," Jazz giggled out as he stepped away from his still hanging lover, whose raised optic ridge urged him to continue, "But, surely, you must remember my constant longing for another to join us in our games. Well, now, you'll no longer have the chance to back out. I've told someone to meet us here today."

Prowl's lip components formed a silent "o", before his face hardened as he tugged at his confines; his air of sensibility almost diminished. Normally, during the numerous 'ninja meetings' which they had enjoyed together, Prowl would have been able to escape at a moments notice yet, on this particular day, Jazz had enforced his chains just so that the other couldn't leave.

Jazz skipped away around a conveniently placed corner, where Prowl's menacing glare could not follow. A moment later, a dark figure appeared out from where Jazz had disappeared. His moustache was full, his red cape was glowing in the sun and his sombrero was perched carefully upon the top of his head.

"I am El-de_Jazz_lo," the newcomer announced dramatically in a Mexican accent as he hurriedly approached the smirking Prowl; his disguise was not at all obvious.

"Where did Jazz manage to pick you up from?" Prowl inquired playfully; his previously saddened expression having morphed into one of a smug, smirking nature.

"You best play along or I might just have to get Bulkhead over here," Jazz threatened in a soft, jesting manner; highlighting that, despite his enjoying mocking Prowl, he held a gentle, amiable disposition at his disposal.

"Let me down, Jazz," Prowl ordered deadpanned causing the other to sulk as though in pain, "I'm sure that there are much more _productive_ … things we could spend our time doing."

The simple hint about the pleasures that they could be engaging in brought an undecided, yet, amused look to Jazz's face. Sighing somewhat begrudgingly, Jazz gazed at the specimen of Prowl before reaching into his outfit's pocket so as to retrieve a palm-sized device. He took one final look his lover, knowing that he would no doubt have revenge on the processor, before fingering the flashing red button which would lower the restrained ninja to the floor, from where he would be free to attack as he saw fit.

Such was his level of pessimism on the matter that a large amount of time elapsed while he continued his observations. To let Prowl down would be to ensure his own eventual humiliation but to leave Prowl up there would be to ensure his own eventual death. From the impatient look on Prowl's face, Jazz knew that should hurry up as acting sooner rather than later would be beneficial for his safety - he would only be able to avoid the other for so long.

As he glared at the gadget in his grasp, a finger accidentally slipped in such a way that a button was pressed which would see the restraints that held Prowl give out; sending him tumbling to his doom with the bulky chains falling on top of him.

A few moments of blissful silence went by after the colossal crash which sounded as Prowl hit the concrete pavement; but, like every silent moment would, it could only last for so long.

"JAZZ!"

The bellowed yell echoes for many miles, if Bumblebee's muttered 'I wish they would let me come along next time' is anything to go by. Birds perched in their nests fly away in distress, squirrels crunching on acorns hurry to get to safety, and, like these creatures, Jazz also flinches away from the obnoxiously high-pitched cry that had rung up from beneath the chains.

As Prowl's movements became evident, Jazz transformed in hopes of fleeing before the other is freed. He drives away from his enraged lover, solely as the result of his fear for his spark. As far away as he had managed to get in the small time it took Prowl to untangle himself, he still didn't miss the pledge which was exclaimed for all to hear.

"Just you wait, Jazz. You can only hide for so long."

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**Thanks for reading.  
All reviews are appreciated.**

Oh and STAY CLASSY SAN DIEGO!


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